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Vinyáya had never really thought about what drew her to seduce then-Corporal Grub Kelp. To her, it seemed an impulse. A simple, physical desire that was satiated in an hour's worth of sweating and moaning. Of course, after that hour, she was easily able to point out why she'd always returned to her young lover: he had lasted an hour on his first sexual foray, and acquitted himself quite well. He'd hesitated at first, terrified and constantly whispering "Is this okay?" "What should I do?" "Can I try something?" She gave answers and he learned from them, seeming to memorize her every known preference and discovering even more, and he'd never needed to ask her again, because he knew the tiny sounds she made in that little office in the back corridors of Police Plaza, which always guided him to perfection.

But that first evening in his office? A whim? A bad decision with a good outcome? Brief madness? None of those excuses made sense. She was calculating. Wise. So...why?

Now, nearly eleven years after the fact, as she took Grub's hand, leading him down the dark hallway of their shared home, she knew. Without any doubt, Vinyáya understood why she had chosen this elf, and she saw a brief flash of it, an almost banished echo as his mind scrambled to catch up with what was happening. The utter...innocence of him. His complete naivete. His blank slate of lovers. In that first encounter, she knew he would be entirely hers, if just for a little while. Untainted by comparisons. Filled with wonder and terrified anticipation.

Vinyáya realized she should feel somewhat guilty for such virgin-hunting ways, but Kelp had been given every opportunity to refuse her pursuit. Instead, he had prepared for her arrival and eagerly bent to her will (and other things). By the second time she joined with him, the initial wonder was gone, replaced by a typical male desire, though with that same worshipful disbelief that never completely went away. Grub knew how lucky he was to have any woman, and particularly this one. Vinyáya was his miracle.

Now, the old innocence lasted on Grub's face until the second they passed the home office, making Vinyáya grow wet between her thighs. When he looked like that, she so wanted to push him to the floor and mount him, grinding to her so-close finish.

Then the innocent look was gone, and Vinyáya's cold internal fire blazed hot. She would not be able to do quite what she wanted. He gave her no more wide-eyed looks, no longer leaned back with indecision. Grub's lids lowered, pupils narrowing, drifting across her body, mentally tearing away what little bedclothes she now sported. He bit one corner of his mouth, exposing a canine and barely restraining himself from outright licking his lips as he contemplated what, precisely, he wanted to do the very most. It was a restraint Vinyáya was grateful for; she didn't think she could remain coherent at such a sight.

With a suddenness that made her gasp, losing all her valuable composure, he stopped resisting his urges and rushed forward. Instead of grasping at the doorknob behind them so they could get into the bedroom, he simply crushed Vinyáya to the door. His hips ground against her, the contact slightly misaligned by his height, and he held onto her waist as their hips met, his mouth falling to couple with hers. He escaped her hand and buried one of his own in her hair, keeping her lips prisoner.

Vinyáya had very little chance of moving, but she did her best, scrambling. Her left hand slapped the door, casting about for the knob. Perhaps, under other circumstances, she would have reveled under this assault and begged to be just lifted up and kept against the door by the force of his body as he took her. This time, however, Vinyáya knew they needed something else. Not mindless sex, because they'd enjoyed plenty of that. A...connection. So she almost cheered—prevented by Grub's tongue, which was now trying to tickle the roof of her mouth—as her hand finally caught the doorknob, twisting it so the door fell open behind them, letting her free to stagger back from Grub, into her bedroom.

Finding he'd lost the woman, Grub's hands clenched and he looked almost resentful. He followed the woman inside the room, seeming to not really notice where he was—a place he'd only been allowed to visit a handful of times—and never taking his eyes off his former lover, even to inspect the new territory.

Trained to recover quickly, Vinyáya darted to the side, making sure she could not be simply pushed over the end of the short foot-board. "You're...quite aggressive." She tried to make it sound casual, but her chest was heaving in a manner she really thought more appropriate to a romance heroine than a new mother. It made the loose white t-shirt she wore—if she'd thought ahead about the seduction, she might have worn something a bit sexier than a baggy tee and light gray pajama bottoms that came down to her knees—shift over her unbound breasts in a manner that actually hurt, though it made the flow between her legs increase.

Grub paused, taking a quick, hissing breath through his nose. His efforts to completely control himself apparently failed, but when he came towards Vinyáya again, it was at a shallower angle. When he stopped and turned, he was between her and the bed so it was no longer she that was trapped, but he. He moved slower, now. Advancing once more so he could stand before the woman. "I have been celibate for the better part of a year." When he was before her, so close that he could reach out and pull her to him, Grub stopped. "If you...tell me to go away...I'm probably going to die."

Vinyáya was about to laugh, but the sound died before it could really start, because she had seen the flash of fear in his eyes. "I wouldn't..." She took a step forward, taking the distance between them down to an inch, a hand rising to rest on his cheek. "I...maybe I could have done that once, but..." She leaned in, resting their foreheads together. "Not...not anymore."

Grub breathed with her, covering the hand on his face with his own slightly larger palm, his other descending back to her hip, sliding under the shirt so he could rub at Vinyáya's smooth waist. "'re really giving me a fair chance?"

The muscles in Vinyáya's stomach jumped at the caress. It was so small, and in an area that wasn't precisely an erogenous zone, but Grub had an encyclopaedic knowledge of how to play with his only mate. She wondered how he would have fared with the same bevy of lovers that Trouble boasted. The thought of Grub bedding a parade of women made Vinyáya tense, which also caused her partner to tighten his hand, pulling her closer, so she answered quickly to calm him. "Yes. A fair chance."

Grub swallowed. "C-could I chances?" He squeaked a little at the end, and Vinyáya could feel the heat of his face against her own cheeks.

She took her hand away from his face, eyes narrowing. She would have purred as the man's hands gripped at her—not painful, but staying—if not for the alarming comment. "Two? Why?" He'd said it had been a year since he'd been celibate. Was that not true? Had Frond...

"I mean, dating as one, but..." Grub lowered his head, looking away. "It has been nine months. And I've been too tired care of things lately. I'm n-not going very well..."

"Not going..." She quickly understood and began to chuckle. Taking Grub's face in both hands, she pulled him until their lips crushed together once more. Not even completely separating, she mumbled, "Let me worry about that."

Vinyáya took a step forward, Grub falling back in equal measure, trying to turn his head to make sure he didn't trip on the bed, while also trying to keep kissing the woman. Vinyáya, much more spatially aware of her own bedroom, judge their position and, instead of taking a full step, she moved her foot about to the back of Grub's heel. Before he could respond, she broke off the kiss and thumped both hands into his chest.

With an "oof!" that was more surprise than pain, Grub tripped, falling back on the bed, bounding on the spring mattress.

Vinyáya followed, landing on her hands, head only reaching mid-chest to Grub, as her feet remained firm on the ground. When Grub had recovered enough to raise his head and look at her, wide-eyed, she did the most obvious thing she could think of.

She licked her lips.

Grub instantly began to sweat and shake. "Oh, gods, are you—"

"Mmmm," Vinyáya confirmed with a nod. It wasn't necessary for the task at hand, but she grabbed the bottom of Grub's shirt, peeling it off his chest, eager to see all of his body, his every move on this night. With the shirt flung aside to some dark corner of the room—where they would doubtless spend twenty minutes searching for it later—Vinyáya let her fingertips brush along the lines of her lover's chest.

It was all so different. He had been, frankly, scrawny during their affair, but the demands of the captain's exam had forced him to develop muscles she'd never considered existed. They were by no means remarkable in the LEP, but astonishing on this man she thought she knew so well. Vinyáya was pleased with the change.

She could feel her heartbeat between her legs. Growling, she let her nails prickle into Grub's stomach, his ridges certainly not a six pack, but he had a few shallow lines to define his shape, plus two deep grooves to either side, sweeping down to disappear into his jeans. Vinyáya decided she had to follow those lines. Could do nothing else but let her fingers pop open the button, then drag down the zipper of his trousers. The sound it made, moving to free him, made her purr, and that rumble made Grub moan.

"Oh, gods...Vinyáya..." He whispered, eyes darting rapidly between his unveiling groin and her intense gray eyes. "Why?" He winced, realizing that the last thing he should be doing was questioning the commander's motives, in the off chance she realized she didn't have any.

"Because," she said, holding onto the syllables, like a teacher scolding a particularly daft pupil, "I've been thinking about this for years." She moved carefully, pinching the folds of Grub's boxers, maneuvering them.

"ReEEEEElly?" Grub squealed as the fabric brushed against his aching flesh, cold air trickling in, making him shiver at the mild chill and pent-up need. "Why did you...never...?"

She had accomplished her goal. Without once touching his skin below the belt, Vinyáya had managed to slip Grub's cock from his boxers, and it now stood more than ready for her.

Vinyáya had not chosen him as a lover just because of staying power. He was...gifted. Reclining slightly as he was, Grub's erection angled up his body, the length going past his navel, the tip resting between there and his lowest rib, tip just peeking out from his foreskin. The largest man in Haven? No. One of the largest lovers Vinyáya had entertained? Yes.

Of course, it required a lot of blood, and the effect of temporary anemia was more than obvious from his stunned expression.

"Because," Vinyáya finally chided, reaching out to wrap her fingers about his base, squeezing tight, feeling it pulse in her hand, "commanding officers should not," she angle the length away from her captain's torso, rubbing moist lips across the foreskin, flicking her tongue out to lap up a line of precum, "suck a subordinates cock."

And, in defiance of her recent edict, that is exactly what Vinyáya began to do.

To say this was the best day of Grub's life...would be a lie. He was, after all, a father. This moment, though, made the day shoot up to a very close second.

"," Grub groaned, watching as Vinyáya took his tip between her lips, swirling her tongue around so her saliva could ease the way for the coming engulfment.

Vinyáya smiled at his reaction, the gesture off when broken up by what she held so delicately between her lips. Judging by the widening of Grub's eyes, he liked that particular smile. "I'm glad you approve," she murmured, taking her mouth away so she could ease down the foreskin, exposing a bright red, remarkably smooth head. She began kissing down his length, ending each contact with a swipe of her tongue. She wasn't a fellatio master by any means. There was no way she could take all of this, so all of the preparation and slickness she could get would work to their advantage.

Despite this, Grub whimpered pitifully at the slow buildup. With the head of his cock exposed, he felt even her breath, and it was all too good.

Vinyáya raised her head to look at her housemate. "What...what!" She switched from amusement to a stern alarm as his whimpers grew louder. "What is it?"

"You...stoooooooopped," Grub bemoaned. "You stopped...s...sucking." He blushed to the tips of his long, pointy ears as he said a word he'd never thought he would get to say to her, unless the subject was breast feeding or a bad day at work.

Chuckling, the wing commander nuzzled against his erection, as if she had suddenly grown quite fond of it. "Good to know decades not doing this hasn't made me rusty."

Grub felt his chest swell. "D...decades? You didn't...with...?" He would not bring up his rival's name with this woman on her knees before him, but he had to know.

Somewhat proudly, knowing full well how he would react, Vinyáya smirked, lowering her head. "" She placed her flattened tongue on the base of Grub's cock, dragging it up laboriously, making his toes curl and a moan burst from his chest. "Lick," she finished, immediately sucking Captain Kelp's maleness as deep into her mouth as she could manage in a single swallow.

"Oh, Frond!"

Vinyáya snarled.

"I-I mean Vinyáya!" Grub amended, making sure to look the woman in the eye, despite how unnerved he was by the sacrilegious flounder. It wasn't his fault his ex was related to a prophet!

Vinyáya brought head head up, coming off Grub's length, and he had to restrain a sob at the loss of her phenomenal moth. Such a stupid mistake...

Then she let her head sink back down, taking in a fraction more of his arousal, tongue darting out past her lips at the end to extend the fellating another inch.

"Oh, gods," Grub moaned, gritting his teeth and clenching the sheets, desperate the thrust and terrified to do so. "You're rusty?"

Vinyáya took her mouth off of Grub's member (more whines), raising her hands to caress the slight dips of his abs. "Yes, but you are pent up, like you said." she grasped his hips, for a moment filled with the dominant desire to just get up and screw him, kind preparations be damned. Wisely, she held off...but could not do so for much longer. "Grub?"

He moaned at his name. "Yeeeeeees?"

"I'm not going to stop this time," she said, smirking as she felt his pulse shoot up in the muscles she touched. "Don't hold back. Let it happen. I want to make you cum with my mouth."

Grub's whines could almost break glass. It suddenly occurred to him that he had died, and this must be that "Heaven" so many Mud Men raved about. "Are you sure? You don't have to, I'm—"

"Grub," Vinyáya interrupted.


"Shut up," she ordered, taking him back into her mouth with a strong suck, sliding until he pressed to the back of her throat.

"Y-yes, ma'am!" Grub yelped, gasping as the woman's mouth moved along his shaft in full, quick strokes. Resolving that, if she wasn't going to stop, he wouldn't hold back, either. Grub acted on the simple fantasies that entered his head. He untangled his fingers from the blue bedsheets, burying them in Vinyáya's long silver hair. He held it up, out of her eyes, allowing him to get a full look at her lips wrapped around his cock, sliding over it while her eyes locked with his, sparking wickedly. Undeniably, she was aroused, and Grub pitied her for a moment, wishing he could help her at the same time that she pleasured him.

Then his mind supplied him with the position to accomplish that, and the combination of that and the touch and the sight was instantly too much for the captain. He gasped at the sudden jump to his peak, choking out a warning. "V-Vin...shit, I'm going to—" That was as far as he got before he shut down completely. He felt the tightening of his balls and the shudder all along his length, and then he was cumming, entire body afire as nine months of pent-up desire (minus a few sessions alone) spilled forth.

Unprepared for the speed of Grub's climax, Vinyáya took the first shot directly to the back of her throat. She gasped and took her mouth away, reflexively swallowing. She pressed his cock against her chest, stroking him with both hands as he came, coating her shirt, a few stronger spurts rising to slick her neckline, dribbling down between her beasts.

To Grub, it felt like he came forever, and even Vinyáya was impressed with the length of his orgasm. Her shirt was quite soaked between her breasts when he finally began to slow his ragged breaths, letting out extended moans, entire body jerking whenever he was hit with a little aftershock, brought on by her continued strokes on his extra-sensitive shaft and head. His hands were still in Vinyáya's hair, but now he let his fingers traipse across her head, massaging and letting the silver drift around his digits. "That was...the best thing ever."

She laughed, giving his tip a final lick before letting her hands rest on Grub's thighs. His cock, momentarily spent, rested against his stomach, getting smaller, which really was a pity, she decided. It was quite attractive. "Grub. Really. You've fucked me how many times?"

"I lost track after the third year," Grub admitted, smirking as Vinyáya raised her brows, surprised, but not at all skeptical. "That was me doing it, though. This...this was you. You've never done...anything like that before." He let his hands drift, moving away from Vinyáya's head, watching as her hair escaped his fingers strand-by-strand, floating back down, fascinated by its ability to catch the dim light of the bedroom, as well as taking on the barest of color from the blue sheets and black furniture, plus their caramel skin and his carrot hair. "You...had to want to do that."

"Very true," Vinyáya said, taking advantage of her southerly position and his momentary softness, finally grabbing the waist of Grub's trousers and pulling them off swiftly, along with the boxers. The man squeaked, unprepared for the disrobing.

Rising from her knees, she stood before Grub, who seemed forlorn for having lost the touch of her hair. It made her lips curve just a little, and she tossed her head, taking the locks further out of his reach, looking down at him imperiously. "And fun as it was...I do want more." Only through the strictest control did she keep herself from shaking as her hands grasped the bottom hem of her shirt, lifting it up, unsticking the front from her breasts. When it was over her head and she could see again, Grub was already staring, mouth open a little, shocked and eager to see her half-bare once more, now only covered by a pair of loose pajama bottoms that came down to her knees. She knew her breasts were larger than the last time they had been together, courtesy of nursing, and she had the distinct impression that Grub approved.

He reached out, placing a hand on Vinyáya's hip, curving about the back so he could guide her to him, pressing her breasts high up on his chest, using them almost as a pillow as he looked up at the woman, eyes somehow soft and hot, utterly eager and at her command. "Whatever you want, Vinyáya. Just ask."

Her legs were weak and her mouth was dry and so much of her wanted to just back away, run away, use that familiar excuse of theirs and say it was hormones. Her pulse had increased, heart now beating so hard and fast it made her entire body throb. It was like being in the middle of battle, but she had no clue what she was fighting. Herself, she supposed.

Vinyáya ran long fingers through Grub's hair, his eyes half-closing at the soothing touch, but giving her just enough attention so she was willing to lean down and whisper. So very softly. Wishing, just a little, that he would never hear.

"I want you to make me yours."

"Yes," Grub growled. He put just a little more pressure on her back, bringing her to him until her knees hit the mattress, and then his other hand followed the curve of her buttocks and lower, pressing the back of her knee until her leg rose, finally settling on one side of Grub's hips, the other following, leaving her straddling him, feeling so high up in this position, looking down on Grub, her hair falling to shield their faces, noses side by side, until he stretched up a fraction, brushing their lips together, and the contact made her press down to seal them completely. Swirling tongues met and her hips rocked, Vinyáya's pelvis pressing into the mans stomach, creating a small friction that made her purr and repeat the movement. Grub's own hips took up her rhythm, his once-more hardening member coming up between them so just his tip could touch between her legs, reminding her of her deepest need.

But this was...nice. They'd stolen kisses before. After the birth, when he was asleep, just now in the hall, and a few in this bedroom. Now they indulged in the act. Testing one another to see what they knew and, gods, he knew quite a bit. When Grub pulled back and artfully kept his mouth from hers long enough for her to catch on that he wanted her still, he ran the very tip of his tongue over her open lips, sparking off every one of the thousands of nerves in them. She was almost too distracted to notice his hand moving. Rising until he cupped one of her breasts, thumb rolling expertly over the nipple, her mouth falling further open so he could repeat the little touches to the tip of her own tongue. His other hand rubbed at her back and then lower, cupping her ass and squeezing gently.

Vinyáya couldn't help the reactions he brought out in her, and this time it was to groan, arching her back, her vulva rubbing against Grub's almost-completely hard member (young men were great), her head going far out of reach for kissing as she looked up to the ceiling. It was a perfect alignment, however, for Grub to lift up the breast he held and gently kiss the nipple, making Vinyáya freeze in anticipation.

He wasted no time, sucking the nipple into his mouth, holding it there with just enough suction, allowing his tongue to rasp over the pink bud over and over while his hand stroked the rest of her breast. He pulled on her ass, grinding the woman further against his hardness, bringing her down to give himself fuller strokes, hips rolling to meet hers. Just when Vinyáya was sure she was going to have to order him to stop playing and finish her, he left off on that breast and took up the other, a bit more awkwardly, due to angles, and she found that giving orders was something she wasn't going to be capable of for the moment.

"Gods, your mouth..." Vinyáya bit her lower lip, not wanting to babble on about every little part of him that was currently or could possibly make her squirm. Was this skill, truly? Had he truly learned all of her quiver-inducing points? Or was it just that somehow...somehow he was meant to have this affect on her? Meant to rouse her in instants and join them together seamlessly?

Grub's hand falling from her breasts stopped such what-if thoughts, allowing her to focus on the movement as his fingers found the tie of her pajama bottoms, tugging it open so he could begin to slide her last item of clothing down, onto her hips, beyond her hips, down her thighs, where his progress was halted by her straddling position.

Grub gave an exasperated sigh.

Vinyáya was about to stand and shuffle the item off when she found herself in a controlled fall. The hand on her buttocks was now on her back, another on her shoulder, maneuvering her so she turned and settled, winding up laying in the center of the bed, looking up at the elf hovering over her.

Grub took a little time to just observe her so discomposed and more than half naked, her vulva exposed, though her lower thighs and knees were now covered. It was there again: that blazing look, the unstoppable grin, the pure intention that his brother had used so often to lure women into his bed. Did he really only want to use it on her?

"Soooo," the man growled, shifting hands and squeezing her ass again, the one formerly on her collarbone traipsing past her breasts, over her stomach, stopping just inches short of where she really needed it, rubbing just below her belly button, "where do you want to go on our date?"

"Frond dammit, Grub!" Vinyáya screamed, not really caring that the awkward blasphemy was hers now. Not when he could so easily slide a finger into her, like she damned needed, now! "Whatever you want! I don't care about that right now!"

He pouted. "Well. Then it's your fault if the date goes badly." There was only a twinge of hurt pride in his words, and that was banished when she clamped her hand around the back of his neck, pulling the male down for more melt-worthy kissing.

It took only a few seconds for Grub to begin panting in her mouth, hands fumbling with the low waist of her pajamas. She bent her legs, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth as it made her nether lips slide together deliciously, but eventually the bending removed her last item of clothing, kicking it aside, the metal ends to the ties making such a loud sound as they hit the wall that Grub jumped, head coming up so he could look for the source.

But soon his eyes were back, and there was silence. A long, long pause as Grub propped himself back up, kneeling so he could look directly down at Vinyáya's half-lidded eyes, and then trailing along her body, which nestled between his legs, exposed and waiting and making absolutely no move to hide.

Vinyáya wasn't really breathing anymore. There was nine months of change, despite what the doctors could do to get her back to relative normality. And she had very rarely let herself be completely uncovered with him, having neither the time nor the relative courage to put herself in such an undeniable position if there was a repeat of the "Fowl incident." She studied his face, waiting.

He laughed a little, and, when he spoke, he didn't do her the courtesy of meeting her eyes, a bit too distracted observing all the other rarely seen features. "You...are beautiful. I...always wanted to say that."

Vinyáya didn't need to have eye contact to know he was telling the truth. There was too much...awe in his voice to fake it. Her moments of tension were gone just as quick as they arose, and she also laughed a little. "Oh? Why didn't you tell me?" She almost pouted, but she wasn't exactly the pouting type.

He stoked the outside of a thigh, watching it closely and rumbling approval as it automatically shifted, her legs parting, reacting to him with pure instinct. " probably would have said something nasty."

Vinyáya rolled her hips against the air once, settling down with her legs apart at an angle that would easily give him access. "I could say something nasty now, if you really want me to..."

"You know..." Grub ventured, letting his hand drift a little lower. A little lower. "I'd rather you didn't...just this once." And his hand was there. Fingers gently brushing the light hair of her vulva, seeking out where it was wet, increasing the pressure a tiny bit, parting her labia and stroking carefully. Carefully. Spreading the wetness until it wasn't just at her core, but all of the slide up to her entrance. He prepared her, knowing she would realize why he hadn't speared her with his fingers or dipped his head down to lick her most appetizing pussy. He would eagerly do either of those things or so many other acts, if she asked, but for now he was simply setting her up to do as he had been told: make her his.

Vinyáya reveled in the light attentions, anticipating the coming moment. She recognized this intensity. That single-minded focus that could make her think that all the rest of the universe was eradicated, and all that was left was them, the act, each touch and tremor.

But she didn't want the world to cease existing. She wanted him in this world. Every part of him. Private life, public life, and, yes, the snarky little comments in the LEP and press once word got out. She wanted it all.

"Do it," she whispered, spreading her legs just a little wider. "I need you."

"Yes, ma'am," he repeated, a trip of laughter in the words. "Whatever you say." He took his slick fingers away, pressing both hands on the mattress, crawling up her body and keeping himself propped to avoid crushing her. When their heads were at a level, he nuzzle, not really kissing her, but letting their lips brush one over the other. Then, slowly, Grub moved his hips forward, sliding into Vinyáya with ease, moaning at the familiarity. Very warm. Very wet. And just the perfect tightness, not so much to hurt her, but just right to caress his every inch, as if yet another part of their bodies was crafted to match one another.

When he came to the end of his length, Vinyáya's mouth dropped open, her spine stretching and arcing, a little cry leaving her.

Grub watched her face, eyes wide in concern. "Are...are you okay?"

"Mmmm." She breathed deeply, then nodded. There was a little sting deep in her as she settled around him, recalling what it was like to have this much. As said before, biggest man in Haven? In no way. But enough for almost any woman, and certainly enough for this one. "I'm fine. Don't stop, Grub."

He shuddered, licking his lips once. ""

"What?" Vinyáya fought to keep the impatience from her voice. The stretch yet lack of friction was almost unbearable, made all the more difficult by her own period of celibacy and growing realizations about the man. Then there was the lust she could feel rolling off him, so thick she was surprised he wasn't a grunting, breeding beast by now.

" it...when you say my name," Grub admitted, somehow managing to mix an embarrassed blush and his quite effective lascivious grin.

"Make me say it," Vinyáya whispered, begging and challenging at once. The trigger amused her, but she supposed it made sense. Back during their affair at Police Plaza, she was very strict on defining their relationship, in that they did not have one. Just about the only thing she didn't demand was that he salute her when she came into his office. Breaking that distance down had been hard on her. Hard because she made it that way. Yet there was a benefit to that, now, because this was just so easy. She let her arms curl loosely around Grub's sides, clutching at his back, attempting to pull her lover down onto her, to cover her with his body and let her feel every part of him when he moved. "Show me how I need you, Grub."

Almost whimpering, he complied, bringing his hips back, withdrawing completely, tensing his muscles precisely so his tip could brush over Vinyáya's clitoris, watching in fascination as her eyes lidded in ecstasy. Then he slid back inside, the woman releasing a cry of "Oh!" followed soon by "Grub..." He knew she was being theatrical, but he didn't really care. Where she was acting now, she would soon be in earnest.

He went slow. It was his only choice. The feel of his lover back around his cock, her nails digging into his back, his name on her lips, was already making his head spin. He could point out the exact moment where false cries turned into true entreaties, her composure lost. It began with a curse, followed by another arching of her back that made her nipples brush against his chest, producing another cry. Despite her advance towards climax, Grub kept pace. Unstoppable. Also rising, but bound by one thing: the need to, for the untold thousandth time, bring the Wing Commander to her peak. To make her crash over and—for just a few instants—see her in utter abandon, knowing he alone could force her to such a condition.

He could tell when she was moments away from climaxing. Her thighs clenched, trying to pull him in quicker, deeper, but unable to overcome his rhythm. She stopped moaning entirely, a little ingrained response as she tried to keep the noise down, in case they would be heard through Plaza walls. He would have to work very, very hard to get her to make what he felt were the proper noises, but not quite today. Her eyes squeezed shut, two lines appearing between her brows as she concentrated, trying to force herself over the edge.

It was only when she stopped breathing entirely, body overcome with tremors, that Grub let go. He slammed into his lover as fast as he could, only managing to pull halfway out before he couldn't take the loss of her body any more, sinking in again, gasping as his withheld need was set free.

Vinyáya's eyes shot open again, her nails sinking into Grub's back, almost drawing blood. Her hips, unable to keep up with his, froze, angled up to give him the deepest access, allowing him to rut her freely. Then it was all over for her, and she began to clench at his sex, his every thrust seeming timed to her spasms, sending fire across her body. She held her breath just one more second, keeping in her cries, but then it was almost too much. She almost sobbed as the word came out, still very quiet, but entirely desperate, unavoidable, delicious to finally say in a moment like this. "Grub." She said it again. Then again. Then in a stream, as if, in this one night, she was determined to make up for every denied cry of ecstasy in their past.

She made a rather good start.

Hearing his name, feeling her orgasm, Grub joined Vinyáya over the edge, waves of pleasure stirring in his balls and then rippling up his cock, which finally emptied into her, letting out months of sexual frustration. He smiled wide as he said Vinyáya's name, quite a bit louder than she said his, and it made cold shivers go down his spine. It was forbidden. And, gods, if something felt that good, no wonder it wasn't allowed. The mingling of their names was the finest thing he had ever heard, and he had the brief wish that he had set something up so he could record that sound to replay when he was alone again.

Then Grub realized something as they calmed, their bodies subsiding but tender from orgasm. There was no all-too-familiar post-orgasmic fear. No loss. No little heartbreak as he retook his place on a chair behind a desk and the woman put on her clothes and sauntered out. Vinyáya was not leaving this time. She was even wrapping her arms tighter about his back, giving him her magic to sooth the scratches she'd made, the magic a strangely foreign tingle, having come from outside his own body. He went a little weak, shifting out of her and half-off of her, laying with his head resting on her stomach, looking up, waiting for the inevitable change.

She wasn't leaving. She wasn't telling him to leave.

She was...his. Grub knew, without a doubt, that this was not their last time together. It was their first. First real time together. Together as Arnica Vinyáya and Grub Kelp, no longer as just male and female. Neither would leave this bed. Not until it was absolutely necessary. There was no more facing the night alone.

His lover. His mate. The mother of his child. Finally, truly, all his own, claimed despite it all.